


BLACK WIDOW AND THE WASP, HAWKEYE AND ANT-MAN: ARE THESE TWO LGBT COUPLES CAPTAIN AMERICA APPROVED?

by ShiDreamin



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gay Pride, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LET THE AVENGERS BE LGBT+, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24758827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiDreamin/pseuds/ShiDreamin
Summary: “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, pointedly avoiding the fact that Clint and Scott are a breath away from making out across the table. Bucky coughs to cover up his laughter. The reporter is not impressed.
Relationships: Clint Barton & Scott Lang, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov & Hope Van Dyne, Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 108





	BLACK WIDOW AND THE WASP, HAWKEYE AND ANT-MAN: ARE THESE TWO LGBT COUPLES CAPTAIN AMERICA APPROVED?

It was a mistake to allow dating on the team.

Not that Steve thinks it would do anything useful. He’s well aware Clint and Natasha are expert spies who have, and will continue to have, whatever romantic escapades they desire. Tony wouldn’t stand for it either, with the steady stream of women and occasional men that have made their way in and out of the tower doors. Nowadays it’s mostly Pepper and Rhodey who sneak into his bedroom, murmuring in low voices about his health and work schedule.

Bucky would be perhaps the most unhelpful, mostly to annoy Steve. If the no-dating ban had gotten anywhere far, all Bucky would have to do is point out the scantily clad ladies that they had pursued in their youth, and the little argument Steve would have had would be gone.

Still, in the face of an intent reporter, blown up pictures elsewhere on the screen, Steve finds himself regretting not pursuing the ban with a little more finesse.

“Does the team know? Oh, who am I kidding—everyone knows!” The audience laughs as the laugh sign is raised behind the camera, two men in tracksuits waving them from side to side as they pace the floor. The interviewer, a man in a black blazer and red button down, smiles at Steve and Bucky.

“Was this your first encounter with homosexuals, Mr. Rogers?” He leads, interrupting the quieting stage chuckles. Bucky’s smile stretches wider at the name, and Steve resists elbowing him just slightly.

“No, sir,” Steve says, because he was raised with manners even if Bucky is testing him with waggling eyebrows.

“We know what the rainbow means. And all the other colors, too,” Bucky answers. He waves a hand in the air, the metal one, and light bounces off his fingers. “It’s nice, to be free to express yourself. Back then we had to do it in the alleyways.”

The reporter frowns, glancing between Steve and Bucky warily. The cue card reads nothing.

“So, it doesn’t bother you? To have not one, but four gay members on the team?” He prods, looking increasingly skeptic.

“Four gay members? Uhh, I don’t think we got four gay dudes, do we Cap?” Steve gives Bucky his best unimpressed look, the one he gives Clint when the other drops out of the ceiling vents.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Steve responds. The interviewer makes a waving notion of his hand, but Steve’s lips are sealed. There are those in the Avengers who have always been open about their sexuality, and others who confided in Captain America with their lips and hands squeezed tight, eyes on the door.

There is bravery, and there is a right, in claiming their sexuality that Steve does not want to take away from.

“Two gays and two lesbians, then, right?” The reporter replies, tapping at the screen to his left. Steve winces as the audience cheers, the cue cards flickering in and out of the bottom of the camera recordings.

“Who would have thought—I mean, Black Widow and the Wasp are hot, but Hawkeye? Ant-man? Aren’t they a little old for romance?” The audience laughs to that, some stray men whooping at the former comment, and Bucky shares Steve’s withering enthusiasm for the direction of the interview. He frowns, crossing his arms, eyes narrowing at the slideshow of images passing through.

Is it too late to mention Steve and Bucky are the oldest humans on the team?

The images come to a slow as every screen flickers to the same picture; Natasha and Hope are laughing, eyes soft under the peering light filtered through the glass panes to sparkle over them. Their hands are linked on the table, in between the half melting soda float Hope loves and the simple jasmine tea Bruce had convinced Natasha to habitually turn to. Across the table sit Clint and Scott, leaning in so close that this angle would make it incredibly easy for a kiss hidden under the green parasol overhead. An empty boat bowl sits in front of their chairs, and Steve could be convinced that there is a glimmer filter over their eyes, locked on the other.

It’s a very sweet photo that his hands itch to sketch, paint, reinvent and hang in Avengers tower. Bucky leans over, bumping Steve gently with his shoulder.

It pains him, for such a colorful scene to be printed on every paper, highlighted on every screen.

“It must be rough, huh? Especially with people like you, Captain America. I mean, Stark’s a hell of a playboy, but old gay men? It’s not a phase when they’re that old,” the words drift from the reporter’s lips with ease. Steve sees them for a moment as what they are—dying ideas, dying feelings, poisoning the air with hatred.

“It really isn’t. The Avengers are open to everyone, and we really do mean everyone! Any age, any gender, any sex, sexual orientation, just—” The audience gasps, the reporter chuckling, and then someone screams “Captain said sex!”

The laugh cards are back, and Steve feels his whole face flush red. He’s always been an easy blusher, something Bucky used to tease him about. Now, his friend is glaring at the reporter, leaning forward as though to block Steve from the frame.

“Nothing wrong with Stark. Or Clint, or Scott, or Nat and Hope. And none of them are gay, either. Not even lesbian.” Bucky clarifies, voice cutting in the humor of the room. The laughter dies immediately, all eyes on him, and the reporter offers a thoughtful hum.

“So, the Black Widow is secretly a cuddler then? Loves holding hands?” He prompts. The room offers more chuckles, though it feels strained and awkward and Steve shakes his head. They didn’t talk about this in the 1930s, and he’s still not used to talking about it now. Why do people care so much about other people’s relationships? Why do they matter?

Who gave them the right to know?

“Not really,” Bucky replies. The cameras swivel to him shrugging. “Not unless she likes you.”

All at once, the laughter grows warm, real. Steve gapes, watching Bucky smolder at the camera, winking playfully. The reporter stares too, seemingly caught by the sudden attention-grabber on scene, and quickly waves away any cue card signaling.

“And you’d know that? With her being a lesbian?” Bucky laughs at the question, kicking out and jostling the glass table between them. The reporter squints, hurriedly stabilizing it with one hand.

“Nat’s not a lesbian, sorry. She’s demi, and very, very rarely likes anyone.” The reporter gapes at him, the cast quieting, yet Bucky continues with the subtlety of a train car. “Hope’s her girl-friend, not girlfriend, and she’s dating someone else anyway. They both are.”

The audience screams at that, a few members in the front few rows yelling “Stevenat represent!” while others in the middle scream “Brucenat! Yes,” fist-pumping. A scant few whisper “Clintnat, please, pleeaaase,” under their breath, and one lone person in the front row flip them off with a muttered “Buckynat, c’mon.”

It is both intriguing and creepy to hear the combination of rumors around Natasha’s supposed romantic interests.

“Really? Okay, sure,” the reporter cuts in, shouting as he waves his hand. The smile is pressed back on his face, and he winks at Steve. “And let me guess—Hawkeye and Ant-man aren’t kissing in this photo?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Steve says, pointedly avoiding the fact that Clint and Scott are a breath away from making out across the table. Bucky coughs to cover up his laughter. The reporter is not impressed.

“Listen, Cap, between you and me I think it’s important that we address the elephant in the room. Doesn’t it concern you that impressionable youths who, mind you, look up to heroes are seeing two old men kiss? Let’s be honest here: this is too much for kids.” 

“ _This_ is too much for kids?” Steve sputters, his leg jostling. Bucky raises an eyebrow, though his hands stay put in his lap, watching with growing intrigue. “Kissing? We fight monsters trying to destroy the Earth, sir, I don’t think kissing is the problem here.” The audience roars, stomping their feet in rhythm, jeering and cheering fading into each other.

“I’ve got nothing against kissing. But kids are going to ask questions when two old men kiss, that’s all. We’re shattering their innocence.” The reporter repeats, and yes, Steve knows that he has a contractual obligation to play nice on TV, but he’s unable to stop the gritting of his teeth, the clench of his fingers into the fabric of the sofa.

“Don’t kids see their parents kiss?” Steve says, barely registering the subtle knock of Bucky’s knee against him. He knows he’s being warned. He knows he needs to cool down. The audience claps and laughs and nods to the camera signs behind the screen, and the reporter’s smile has to it a nervous edge as he glances over to the men behind the sound mic. They’re nervous. They’re wary.

They want Steve to calm down. But this isn’t right.

“Yes, but—”

“It’s healthy for kids to see kissing! It’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

“Yes, but—”

“I’m not saying that my teammates are dating; it’s not up to me what they want to do in their free time. But if they were and they were dating in public, in America the free, I see no problem.” The audience is loud, louder, even though the signs haven’t been taken out, and the men who glance at them are pointedly staring at the ones spelling out “ _quiet_.” Steve can hardly hear himself over the thrumming in his veins, the press of Bucky against him, the seat against his chair and he is

“Well, the problem is that they’re _gay_! Look, I’m not homophobic, but no one wants to see two old men making out in public.”

“They’re not gay.”

Quiet.

The audience is quiet.

Steve pauses, panting. He’s warm, he realizes, all warmed up from anger and protection, and it’s with a low sigh that he leans against the couch. Bucky drags an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in, but he doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t do a thing until Steve nods.

“Clint and Nat are dating,” Bucky announces, and if there were once people who would have cried at the news they are quiet now, bated breaths, because there is more to say and the growing tension in the room is palpable. “Natasha is demisexual, and Clint is bisexual, and them dating doesn’t mean they’re now straight.”

“Scott and Hope are dating,” Bucky continues speaking, and though the reporter makes a movement to talk he continues on regardless. “They’re both heterosexual, and that’s perfectly fine with us here at Avengers, just as fine as with Clint and Nat. Because we don’t have any problem with anyone with any sexuality.”

It should be his final sentence. It _should_ be their final sentence, in an ideal world where Steve and Bucky were young again, in a decade a century past, and they could face the people who were wrong with pride and walk away.

They can face those people now. But time has passed, and people have changed, and Steve finds that he isn’t quite so inclined to walking away.

“I’m glad you’re not homophobic,” Steve says, low, and it is then, that moment as the audience leans forward and the reporter leans back, Bucky’s arm warm against his shoulders, it is _then_ , that Steve’s voice rises higher. “I’m really glad you’re not homophobic, because neither am I.”

“I’m gay,” Steve sighs. There is a moment, maybe two, before Bucky squeezes his shoulder.

“Funny,” Bucky chuckles, that quirk on his lips ever mischievous, “me too.” Though it may be Steve who broke up the dialogue and Steve who turned to the reporter, it is Bucky, it is _always_ Bucky, who leans over with that grin and that sparkle in his eyes.

“You might want to turn around,” Bucky mock whispers to the reporter, and that is all the warning Steve gets before they’re kissing, camera lights lit green, audience cards blank. It should be quiet.

The audience screams. They’re loud, so impossibly loud, and Steve can hardly help himself for the smile that breaks through their kiss. Bucky’s smiling too though, and that’s not too bad. Not at all.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers. The mic is on, and the cameras are still pointed on them instead of panning over the audience, and there are smartphones pointed at them right now. Maybe this would have gotten them fired for being wrong, maybe this would have been the thought Steve had to banish for the army. Maybe this would have been stupid.

Maybe Steve’s alright with that.

“I love you too.”

They can be stupid together.

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY PRIDE MONTH <3 <3 <3  
> May you celebrate Pride with joy, for this year and the many years after!!
> 
> I've had this draft sitting here ever since I missed pride last year with this fic. Last year was my first year attending/participating in a large public pride event and it was great! I hope everyone this year, regardless of your gender nor your sexuality, gets to enjoy pride as much as possible.
> 
> If you enjoyed reading my fics, want to yell about found families, or support me, please check out my twitter [ @Shidreamin ](https://twitter.com/shidreamin/)! I’m more active on there, and you’ll be able to see my zine previews before I post them here, as well as some WIP in the future! I've also recently set up a [ Curious Cat ](https://curiouscat.me/shidreamin/) and [ Ko-Fi ](https://ko-fi.com/shidreamin/), if you'd prefer messaging me anonymously. ♥ ♥ ♥


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